Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Top o’ the morning to you! No, I’m not really Irish, but I do like to get into the spirit of the holiday—the wearing of the green, the kissing of the Blarney stone, the chasing of leprechauns. We have so much to thank the Irish for. In addition to shamrocks and William Butler Yeats and pots of gold, there’s Riverdance and Enya. There’s also Guinness and Laphroaig, both of which I’m sure my humans would like. But in my opinion, the ultimate contribution of the Irish to world culture is corned beef. It’s juicy and succulent, and contrary to its name has nothing to do with corn whatsoever. Today it was the luck of the Irish for me. In celebration of the holiday, my Humans made New England boiled dinner. I passed on the carrots and potatoes and cabbage, of course, but the corned beef was divine! I could have eaten much, much more, but when one is watching one’s waistline like I am, one must resist. But I do look forward to St. Paddy’s Day next year. Erin go bragh, everyone!

It’s Daylight Saving Time!

Last night I lost an hour of sleep. Clocks all over the country were turned forward an hour in accordance with the old adage “Spring forward, Fall back” created a century ago by an Englishman who was also an early riser and an avid golfer. He was appalled that his fellow Brits slept well past dawn instead of gallivanting around before breakfast, like he, on their thoroughbreds. He also longed for just another hour before dusk in which to finish his round of golf. If only the clocks were set one hour ahead, he thought. Well, I am not an early riser (or a riser at all, if it suits me), and so it comes as no surprise to me that English horsemen and avid golfers would come to be so completely in charge of the clock. Who else would have nothing better to do than wheedle and whine until everyone else was forced out of bed at some ungodly hour? As you can see, this lack of sleep has made me cranky, which makes me think this would be a great time for a nap.